"Purple 84...Purple 84....Black 18...hut hut hut!"

I got an email from a good friend of mine yesterday. As a matter of fact, Lenny will probably be standing next to me at the wedding. I’ve decided not to name a best man really, but only one person can stand to my right so its going to be Lenny.

Lenny and I go pretty far back. We first met during the summer prior to our seventh grade year. Ah yes, I can hear all the jokes now, but this is what it was. “This one time, at band camp…”

I’m not sure if we became friends right away or if it was later on down the road, but I do remember that he had a really awesome buzz cut. He’s always been on the tall side, but back then he was playing the drums with another old friend of mine, Ryan Z. Ryan and I had moved up from grade school together and for whatever reason Lenny standing next to Ryan was about the same as Spud Webb standing next to Kareem. Fortunately, I was a brass player and I didn’t have to associate with the low level percussionists, because if I had I‘d imagine we‘d have been a little more trouble a lot more of the time. Long story short here, in my estimate Lenny and I have been cracking jokes towards each other for the better part of 20 years.

Like many friends its been on again off again over the years, but we always manage to catch up somehow someway. During high school we were pretty good friends. We were in the band together, we worked together at K-Mart, we roller bladed together, we went on road trips to Bloomington and Indianapolis, we ran in the same circles of friends. During our senior year we grew closer together not only because we were working together, but also because I had converted from a brass player over to the drum line for marching band. Lenny was a “whip ass” snare drummer by this point and I was placed on “third base” (meaning the third largest of four base drums). After school got out we went in different directions as many friends do. It wasn’t like we were complete strangers all the sudden, but we weren’t seeing each other five days a week anymore. Lucky if it was five days a month.

Over the last few years we’ve been able to become better friends once again. This time it’s a new right of passage. I’ve watched him become a good husband to Heather and father to Ally. We mostly communicate through email now. We talk about some serious stuff from time to time. Before I asked Rhiana to marry me he was the only male friend that I went to for advice and for that matter he was the only person outside of my family that I asked as well. Other than the serious stuff we mostly talk about sports.

Lenny is a big sports fan. I personally consider myself a sports fan too, but I’m not quite on the level that he is. In particular it’s football for Lenny. In a recent email he wrote, “I’m addicted to football. I listen to it on the radio every day all the way too and back home from work.” Now, I’ve never really listened to football on the radio unless its an actual game. And Lenny’s commute isn’t short. He drives from Columbus nearly to Louisville Kentucky and back every day. If I had to guess I’d say the commute is roughly 150 miles round trip. That’s a lot of football.

And what’s football to any guy without having a favorite player? He’s got one of those too. As a matter of fact, to the common person, it might seem a little strange how much Lenny prefers to follow his favorite player. It started with a jersey I’m sure. And with that it has blossomed into something almost slightly beyond fanatical.

I know its killing Lenny right now. He’s reading this thinking, “Just tell them who it is. That’s all I want is to get the guy’s name on the page.” Oh…all right all right.

So he's got all this stuff related to this one player. Jersey’s from the guy’s old team, the new team, and even college and high school jerseys. He’s got pictures and posters and a few action figures that I think even have kung-fu grip that clutch a football.

I’m not sure why he likes the guy. I personally think the player is a little cocky. I’ve taunted him about it on many occasions and when the guy was traded to another team I teased him that the guy got run out of town. He’s always stood by his player though and that in itself is admirable.

I guess that tells me a little bit about my friend. He stands by his boy. And that's why he's going to be standing next to me in June.

Thanks Lenny, for everything.